The Path to Walk
by TenTenD
Summary: War is naturally followed by rebuilding. The Court of the King however is home to many sorts of people. The path to walk may seem narrow and dark, but at its end is salvation. Luinwen of Imladris will discover more than a purpose to fulfill, she shall find a purpose to live.
1. Chapter 1

Luinwen sighed for what felt like the hundredth time. Alone in the dark cellar she wiped the tears from her eyes and wondered what her purpose would be. She had no one left on the whole plane of Arda. It was only she, alone, bereft of family. What misfortune, what tragedy. Yet she was not the only child to have been grieved by the war. True, her sire was no longer, but weeping wound not bring him back.

Standing to her feet, the elleth shrugged off her shoulders the lingering guilt. She had begged her father to sail with her, claiming she would not leave the world of Men without him. He had refused and gone to war against the servants of the Dark. And he hadn't returned. Like many others. His daughter would mourn, but it would be her heart that cried and not her eyes.

The war had ended. A new age had begun. And Luinwen would have a hand in the rebuilding if she could help it. She dusted the remnants of earth from her kirtle and a wave of energy coursed through her like a balm, succour for her wounds. With a light step she wandered to the door and opened it in one quiet motion.

The hall she stepped into was deserted. Luinwen carefully glided over the cobbled path, the atmosphere reflecting her sorrow. Or mayhap it was she who forced the forlorn mood upon the corridor. A lamp flickered, its flame looking ready to perish behind the glass. Taking pity on the burning light, Luinwen took the lamp in her hands and only then noticed the crack in the glass. "You are wounded as I," she exclaimed softly, hugging the lamp to her breast.

Fire had a will of its own and it had always held mystery for Luinwen. So warm was fire, yet so very dangerous. It could heal or kill, it could save or damage. She hurried all the way back to her bedchamber, placing the lamp on a small wooden table. She admired the glow it produced, though it hardly had any need, for the sun shone through the billowing curtains.

A gentle knock on the door startled her. Luinwen stood to her full height as it opened to admit in Erestor. One of Lord Elrond's kinsmen, Erestor stood proud before her, his dark mane of hair glistening as he stepped into the light. He gave her a small inclination of the head and spoke, without waiting on formalities. "I wish to have words with you, mistress Luinwen."

"Do have a seat," Luinwen invited politely. Seldom was she sought out, unless it was to receive lines from her father. She watched as Erestor sat down on a finely carved chair, then she took the seat opposite, putting herself face to face with the ellon.

"I was deeply saddened to hear about your father's death. We were kin, he and I, as you well know." Of course she knew. Luinwen folded her hand in her lap demurely and waited for what was to come. "It falls to me to secure a position for you, my dear elleth, and I should like to consult with you on the matter."

Having been born to Idhrenor and his then-lover a few centuries past, Luinwen came from a long line of peredhil, she herself no more and no less than a peredhel. Her mother had been a woman of the race of Men, a fair thing, gay and nimble, but ill and small. Perhaps it was the sheer tragedy of her existence that called to Luinwen's father. He had met the woman, Aeryn she had been named, on one of his many travels and was smitten with her. Despite her frail health and the fact that he would outlive her, for her father had chosen the life of the immortal, he still took her to be his own.

This Aeryn had bore him children other than Luinwen, but none of them survived infancy, having been born with the weakness of their mother. Only Luinwen, the last child born to them did. But after she had laboured to bring Luinwen into the world, poor Aeryn, exhausted from the trial, fell violently ill. She was dead before five years were past.

In truth, Luinwen had scarcely felt the absence of her motherly figure. She had been well cared for by her father, nursed and reared by the most loving of parents. The knowledhe that she was motherless had not been attentively weighed and analysed. It was the way she had grown, without a mother. Other children had them, but not Luinwen. Her father had often told her that while her mother could not be with her, she watched them from above, and smiled upon them. That, she had taken to heart and was happy for.

Yet, as Erestor sat before her, she cursed bitterly the fate which would leave her so utterly alone. Indeed, she should have liked to have perished alongside her father. But, as she knew not the way of weapons, having shown no interest in the art of war, Luinwen could not have marched with the army no matter how dearly she had wished to. That she understood. Was it wrong in her, though, to wish she had been granted mercy?

"What did my lord have in mind?" she finally asked when the silenced stretched out too long between them.

Erestor cleared his throat. "As you are dear to both myself and Lord Elrond we have thought that perhaps you may wish to sail to Valinor with us."

"Oh, my lord, that I would not," Luinwen spoke. "We are on the old world, I know. And yet, when your young brothers have been devastated by war, I cannot conceive of simply turning my back on them. I should like remain."

He acknowledged her answer with a short nod. "Then, mayhap, you would consider accompanying Lady Arwen on her journey."

Luinwen's eyes lit with interest. "What journey does Lady Arwen wish to undertake?"

It was no great secret, the lady's love for the mortal ranger Luinwen had seen at Elrond's table. In fact, she knew well that Aragorn yet dwelled within these walls. They all waited with baited breath for their Halfling friend to wake from the healing sleep. Lady Arwen truly loved the man. She had refused to leave the dying world of Men so that she could be with him. It had been a brave decision, one that could have only been born out of love.

"When Elessar is crowned, Lady Arwen shall be crowned beside him. Lord Elrond wishes that she might have amid her women ladies she may trust." And Luinwen understood. Lord Elrond wished to shield his daughter from the troubles running a realm might put in her path, to smooth her journey as it were. "Is the prospect pleasing?"

"It would please me greatly to serve my lady Arwen," Luinwen answered. She had nothing left to tie her to the house of Elrond. In the service of Lady Arwen she would have a worthy purpose at least.

Her acceptance obtained, Erestor left her to her own device. Luinwen, having quite forgotten all bout her lamp, so that when her eyes clapped on it, a wave of tenderness crashed through her. Just like the glass, her heart had cracked. Yet Luinwen was determined to endure. The Valar had left her on Arda for a reason and she could not in good conscience depart without having fulfilled her duty, whichever that was.

Deciding that it would do her no good to sit indoors any longer, Luinwen decided to take a short walk through the gardens while the weather still permitted such pleasures. Imladris was a beautiful place. It was her home, and it had been such since she could remember. Even when her father left on one of his journeys, Luinwen was left behind, in the care of good elves until his return. She had known no other leaving place. The thought of leaving behind such splendour pained her somewhat. Fear of the unknown would not stop her though.

Silent as a shadow she moved through the halls, occasionally greeting one elf or another who happened to pass by her. They would smile and return her greeting with their own, but none offered to join her. Shy by her nature, Luinwen rarely sought out the company of others. She was only too happy to be left to her own thoughts when that could be. The behaviour exhibited by her fellow elves did not surprise her in the least. Yet, inexplicably, her soul cried out for companionship.

Luinwen suppressed a sound of anguish, burying it deep within herself. But just as she was about to turn towards the copse where she sometimes set in the shadow of the trees, her eyes landed on a small, child-like form sitting on a bench. Curiosity prompted her to walk closer. It was one of the Halflings.

The Halfling looked up at her. "Good day," he said, just as she opened her mouth to greet him.

Blushing at her own ineptitude, Luinwen bowed her head. "Good day to you as well, master hobbit." She looked at the bench. "May I join you."

"But of course," cane the reply.

She sat down, her kirtle dark against the white marble. "How is your friend?" she asked, admiring the way one of the sunrays played in the creature's golden locks. There was a certain beauty to the soul she saw inside. A true and courageous spirit dwelled beneath the flesh.

"Frodo," offered he. "He is well, just woke up actually."

"I am glad to her that," and then she hesitated. Luinwen could not place a name to his face. "Ah, may I have your name?"

"Merry," he replied promptly. "Everyone calls me Merry."

"Well then, master Merry, you may address me as Luinwen." If her voice trembled it was because the Common Tongue was not quite so common for her. Sindarin and Quenya did not hold much of a challenge to her, but the Common Tongue had proved quite bothersome to learn. "And I am very pleased to hear that your friend is well."

A strange looks passed on Merry's face just then. "I think I may have seen you somewhere before." His voice rose an octave and a flush stole over his cheeks at the admission, as if ashamed at having forgotten.

Far from being put out, Luinwen laughed sweetly. "I am not very memorable," she said in a forgiving tone, aware that, indeed, she was quite forgettable. By choice, that was. "You may have seen me in the Lord's library. I care for the scrolls and the books there."

"Ah, I tried to read one, but I fear my grasp of the language is quite poor." His explanation prompted a smile from her. "Mayhap 'tis so, mistress of the books." They shared a small laugh.

Scrolls and books were what Luinwen loved. The tranquillity of her name became the tranquillity of her nature. Most of her days were spent amid scrolls which needed to be copied and recopied, all sorts of tales unfolding before her eyes. The ballads were beautiful and sad. The tragedies stole tears from her eyes.

"I shall miss Rivendell," her partner said quite unexpectedly. "It is such a wonderful place."

"As shall I," Luinwen disclosed, she knew why not.

They shared a companionable silence afterwards, each with his own pressing thoughts. The need for companionship assuaged, Luinwen felt herself relax. How very nice to was to be able to breath again. She felt at peace. A bird thrilled a song somewhere above her, enchanting its listeners with the sweetness of the sound. Merry glanced up and smiled at it. Such beauty was to be appreciated. Luinwen did the same. Her dark eyes admired the plumage and her ears picked up the tune and she hummed along with their winged friend.

"How very pleasant," Merry declared, joining his voice to hers. He sang well.

"Mistress Luinwen! Mistress Luinwen!" called out an elleth, coming forth from within white walls. Her step was hurried, her face flushed with exertion. "There you are." Luinwen was already standing by the time the elleth reached them. "My Lord Elrond wishes to have words with you, mistress."

"It seems I must take my leave of you, master Merry," Luinwen said, a smile crossing her face as she glanced at Merry. "I bid thee farewell."

"And fare thee well too, mistress of the books," her partner returned, a smile of his own lighting his features.

Elrond awaited her in one of the well lit chambers, alone. Luinwen did not think he wished to speak to her of scrolls. For in truth she had been diligent about her work, and he could not complain on that point. Nay, if he wished to have word, then it was to be on the subject of his fair daughter. Luinwen stepped into the room with a calm gait, holding her head high as her father had taught her. And also to add some to her rather unimpressive height. Lamenting her lack of stature, however, was not what she wished to do at the moment.

"You have asked for me, my lord," she said softly, stopping before the sitting Elrond.

"Indeed. Erestor tells me you have chosen to join my daughter," he offered. There was a question in his voice, a certain 'why' which was in need of explanation. "Have you chosen the mortal path?"

"I have not chosen, my lord, one way or another." She did not have anyone to hold her from eternity, like Lady Arwen did. "Yet I shan't leave before I have fulfilled my purpose."

"Your purpose?" the lord questioned.

"Aye. I must find my purpose and fulfil it, if I am to ever find peace." Luinwen's determination ran deep in that he saw. "I shall serve my lady to the best of my abilities," she promised.

"I do not doubt you shall," Elrond agreed. "What I ask of you concern my daughter only in part."

"What would you have of me, my lord?" Her dark eyes glinted in the light as she spoke.

"Only that you keep your eyes and ears open at the King's court. My daughter is to be Queen, yet I should not wish her friendless in a strange land. She will have need of those she can trust."

Men could be brought together by great causes. They would make war on common enemies and they would win. But when the fight was over, instead of living in peace, they often found quarrels among themselves. Aye, men could do great, brave things. But a single gust of unfavourable wind could knock them over. They thought over individual beliefs. They fought over inconsequential matters, trivial and not worthy of the blood spilled in their name. And Lady Arwen would be surrounded by such creatures. Her wisdom and kindness may not suffice in helping them better themselves.

With that understanding between them, Luinwen was released for the moment. But before she went, she had one request to make. "My lord, I have left inside the library a scroll which I dearly love, tales of ages past. May I be permitted to retrieve it and take it with me?"

The books and scrolls in that library had been painstakingly collected over centuries and ages. It was a great thing of her to ask. "You refer to the Tales of Ages Past, I presume." Her nod came to confirm. "You may have it, mistress Luinwen. Consider it a gift. A farewell gift."

"Many thanks, my lord." Her wish granted, Luinwen stepped into the library and walked to where she knew the scroll to be. She pulled out the weathered paper, taking in its scent. She held it open and peered at the faded writing. The tales it contained could be restored and mayhap translated into the Common Tongue. The exercise would do her good, she reckoned. And so it was that she carefully held the scroll in her arms and took it to her own chamber, placing it next to the lamp which she blew out. "Waste not your fire," she whispered to the candle.

It was soon after that the guests of Lord Elrond departed. On the fair day when they left, Luinwen had bestirred herself to step outside and bid them farewell. It was Merry that she sought to see, of course, for him she knew best of them, having spent quite a bit of time in his presence after their initial meeting. It was to him that she relied her wish to translate the ancient tales.

As she bent to kiss the top of his head, Merry could not help but say, "I shall look forward to a story when we meet again."

"And I shall be happy to oblige," Luinwen replied. If the exchanged was taken note of, she could not say, as most of her brethren were looking at the ring bearer. Lady Arwen too was present, her brilliant beauty shining for all to behold. "May the stars guide you to joy and happiness, master Merry of the Shire."

What songs they sung and what cheer they made at the sight of the realm's heroes, one can only imagine. Suffice to say that Frodo Baggins and his company were led away with the pomp they were deserving of.

It was with peace that Luinwen saw the departure of her friend. It was perhaps the knowledge that she would see him again soon that made the sweetness of the moment. In the group only one man held doubt in his heart. Luinwen looked towards the ranger who would become king. Their eyes met momentarily and she lowered her head in recognition of his merits. Yet her eyes did not rise again. She continued to look at the ground, hiding a small smile from the sight of all present there.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: So, thank you to those of you who added this work to their favourite list and to those of you who followed. I even saw familiar names there. :) Actually, the response is larger than I thought it would be, so this author is not only very pleased, but downright excited._

_Thank you for reading and please don't be shy with letting me know what you think._

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><p>The serenity of Lady Arwen was a balm. Even in the most trying of circumstances, the lady displayed decorum and demureness, as well she should. Luinwen had always admired Lady Arwen for her unparalleled tranquillity and she had, quite shamefully, envied that same peacefulness as an elfling. Lady Arwen seemed content. The composure affected her too.<p>

Luinwen allowed herself to be rocked gently by her mare's gait. The placid creature had been the soul of benevolence, keeping her pace steady and smooth. A rather old specimen, she hadn't been all too pleased when she found out about the long journey, but all things considered, she'd performed exemplary.

"We shall make camp soon," Lindir told her, as he rode closer towards the rear of the column. He fell into pace with her, a curious look upon his face. "I have heard you wish to remain at court as well. Rumours, you know."

"Rumours, my lord, are the affair of the idle," Luinwen answered, a small smile on her own lips. "But, this once, the rumours are not false. I have opted to join the court," Luinwen confirmed. "We shall see much of each other, I presume."

Lindir laughed. "I shall follow you like a shadow, mistress. Wherever you and Lady Arwen go, I shan't be but three steps behind."

"Shall you bear us company for the whole duration of our stay?" The question felt natural enough upon her lips. Luinwen was aware that Lady Arwen would not be left with just her, but she could not help but feel a tad displeased. The court of her husband ought to present enough security.

"Nay, 'tis only until Lady Arwen had found her feet." Conversationally, he added his own question. "And you, mistress Luinwen, how long shall you stay?"

Luinwen shrugged. "Until I am no longer needed." There was bound to come a day when the lady would have no need of Luinwen's services.

"And after? Whence shall you go?" His interest roused in Luinwen a sort of curiosity. Lindir was a glib sort, he could charm the scales off a dragon if he put his mind to it. Why he should suddenly show such an interest in her person, Luinwen could not tell.

"Wherever the wind scatters me," she answered nonetheless.

They fell into a companionable silence, riding close together. The path was a wide streak ahead of them, grey and ever-flowing, no end in sight. She could gallop, Luinwen thought, she could gallop forever, to the ends of Arda. She could see all that had been created. A smile, full and wide, bloomed upon her lips at such a notion. If only she could. If only adventure suited her thus.

But nay, Luinwen knew herself better. For all her silence and avoidance of others, she did not wish to be lonely. It was best to remain where she was. It was the path her heart wished for, no matter the cries of her mind. Perhaps after she was no longer needed, the wind might scatter her on a grand adventure.

From the high crowns of the tress a white blossom fell onto her cloaked shoulder. Luinwen glanced at it for a moment, then towards Lindir. "You ought not to play such tricks. I could retaliate."

"You were lost in thought," he said, as if that explained his behaviour.

The sound of hooves beating against the earth broke through the air of intimacy that had engulfed Luinwen and Lindir. With a sharp turn of her head, Luinwen saw a flash of golden tresses and a white horse approaching them. She recognised Lord Glorfindel. If her greeting was half-hearted at best, Lindir felt infinitely more comfortable in the presence of the other elf.

Thus Luinwen was flanked by the two elf-lords. But she could have just as well been a thousand miles away for all the notice they took of her. Still, the conversation took an interesting turn. It was clear that the two were well acquainted with one another and not at all shy about japing and quipping. For her part, Luinwen was well pleased to listen and admire the elf that had just joined them.

Dreams of earlier years flittered through her mind. She sorted through them carefully, steeling her heart against such wistful thinking. There were many things that she could do, but just as many that she couldn't. Luinwen was aware and conscious of that and all its implications.

Still, as a young elleth, on the cusp of full bloom, she had been enamoured with the golden lord. Glorfindel had been one of the many reasons which had made her stay in Rivendell enjoyable in the absence of her father. She used to watch him herd the twins, Lord Elrond's sons, out of trouble and she would laugh, feeling joy upon seeing their pleased faces. While she hadn't exactly been lurking in the shadows, Luinwen had taken great care not to be noticed. Her love for the ellon had been a pure thing in her early days. She had admired him greatly for his elegance and flair, but as she grew the affection morphed into something that she could not comprehend.

So she had broken out of her habit of watching him come and go. She no longer went to the gates to see him arrive, nor did she search for him with longing eyes. Her limitations she knew very well and Luinwen would not permit herself to be caught in an embarrassing situation. And while distance hadn't worked to dampen her ardour, it had made of it a manageable thing, giving her the control she desired over it. Her mouth could not be trusted to open in his presence, for it might let slip a most insensible confession.

Even as they rode together, she was the one sitting quietly between the two males as they hurled words back and forth over her head. It was amusing in a certain sort of way. Yet at the same time, it cast a bit of a shadow upon her.

"You are awfully quiet, mistress," Lindir finally said, his hand reaching out to touch her shoulder.

"Merely woolgathering," Luinwen replied in a small voice, perfectly aware of Glorfindel's gaze resting on her face.

"What beasts we are," Glorfindel joined in, "we have a fair elleth between us and you keep me busy with insulting your skills with a sword. Do forgive us." The jest was well made, Luinwen had to give them that.

Her appreciation manifested itself in a smile. "Forsooth, 'tis of no consequence, my lords." They shared a look at her words, which Luinwen could only interpret as confusion. She let is slide, however, for it passed as soon as it had arrived. Perhaps it had been her own mind. "Ah, we are stopping to make camp."

Her observation had been correct. Most of the party dismounted and small fires were built. Those who were to keep watch prepared themselves, though night had not yet fallen. There was still a glimmer of light that could be seen shifting through the trees. Luinwen wished she might see the setting sun. It was bound to be such a beautiful sight.

Climbing down from her own mare, Luinwen tethered her with the other horses. Lady Arwen was joined by her close kin. Luinwen would not intrude upon such precious hours. She instead chose to sit by Erestor, where she knew she would be welcome. There was no need to converse with Erestor as he was caught up with his own companion. Luinwen could see to braiding her hair and preparing herself for a good night's rest.

Some of her travel companions climbed trees, making themselves comfortable between the thick branches. Others neared the small fires. Soon enough the meadow broke in song, a soothing murmur, a pleasant melody. It was an old ballad. Luinwen listened enraptures even as she retreated near the strong roots on an ancient tree. Sitting against the hard bark, Luinwen searched for the desired comfort which she found mere moments later.

Her eyes happened upon Glorfindel as he sat surrounded by his kindred and a pang of desire settled low inside of her. How odd the intensity of the feeling was. She had avoided his presence to the best of her abilities so that she might not be claimed by the flutters of her heart – and it had worked most days, as the worries of each hour kept her busy – but a few moments in his company and she was reduced to a simpering witless dolt. Valar be good, but she could not help her reaction. Luinwen understood well enough the nature of her longing, nonetheless, she tried very hard to suppress it. The ellon simply did not see her thus and it would be terrible to be approached by him when he felt nothing for her.

It was not uncommon for elves to take lovers to bed down with so that they might assuage the need of their bodies. Yet it was not compulsory either. So long as the two parties were in agreement, no one would bat an eyelash at what went on behind closed doors. Luinwen had not chosen any of the elves in Rivendell for a lover. There had only ever been Glorfindel to wake in her the embers of desire. She hadn't had the inclination, nor the skill to approach another ellon for gratification and, what was more, she did not think a romp would satisfy her when her heart longed for something durable. Luinwen tore her gaze away from Glorfindel at a long last.

When the sole light was given by fire and most of the company had quietened and fallen asleep, Luinwen wrapped her cloak tighter about her and placed her head on a pile of foliage and moss, with the express intention of falling asleep herself. Luck, however, was not on her side. A poor sleeper in the best of circumstances, Luinwen found that the day's exhaustion would not be enough to send her into the world of dreams. For some time she tossed and turned, fitful, unable to find her place. The flickering of the fire and the noise of the wood distracting her and putting in her mind all sorts of strange thoughts.

Memories swirled and galloped inside of her head. Luinwen closed her eyes against them, but they would not leave her be. She tried emptying her mind of everything but it worked only for a few short moments. Her mind was never idle for long. There seemed to always be a matter to contemplate. Luinwen sighed and turned her back to the fire. Soon enough even the flow of her thoughts was slowed, enough for her to fall into a sort of lethargic state. In the end she fell asleep with the sweet melody of the wind ringing in her ears, pushing her further up the road, away to a faraway land.

She woke with the sun, bright and early, to a southern wind beating wildly through the leaves. Luinwen stretched her limbs and searched for the water skin she had taken with her. She washed her face then searched through her satchel. The lembas bread she had carefully packed for the journey was swathed in broad leaves which Luinwen unwrapped gently.

Stepping towards the larger group, she, once again, placed herself on Erestor's side. Yet it seemed she was to endure a trial of sorts, for on the other side of her kin sat none other than Lindir and Glorfindel. Luinwen blushed, perhaps foolishly, but she passed the water skin to Erestor's hands when he eyed it. She chewed on her lembas bread, swallowing small mouthfuls.

"How much longer do we journey?" she asked, when there was a lull in the conversation.

"No long now, mistress, a couple of days longer. If that," Glorfindel replied. "Weary, are you?" He raised the skin to his mouth and drank deep, swallowing the clear water in gulps. "I know this water."

Luinwen had no choice but to smile. "The nameless brook," she confirmed. Blue eyes regarded her with thinly veiled interest and she lowered her gaze. Such scrutiny was foreign to her and she could not figure out its meaning.

Nor did she have time to ponder the matter. The horn sounded out, a signal that it was time to break camp. Luinwen gathered what remained of her lembas and took the water skin from Glorfindel's outstretched had with a murmur of gratitude. She the found her mare and untied her, rubbing soothing circles on her corded throat muscles. She led the creature to the line that had started forming, at the same time searching her bag for mint leaves.

Erestor aided her to recapture her seat on the mare's back. "I must ride forefront for the day. Shall you be fine on your own?"

"Have no fear, my lord. I shall be fine," Luinwen assured him with a small smile on her face.

Forth they road for the next couple of days, passing through plains and fields, the sun shining, or the moon. They ate and sang and drank; they made merry in preparation for the merriment that was to come. Luinwen celebrated the new age too. She followed her brethren. And ever so slowly she felt the injury within her soul lessen its sting and mending. She was still far from the happiness of early days, but it was better.

During the evening of the second day, they saw one proud tower of white marble rising to greet them. A shout of joy reverberated through the riding party. Luinwen breathed in relief as the last two days they had ridden slower, but without stopping for more than a short break every now and again. But soon there would be rest for weary bones.

Leaning in slightly, Luinwen whispered in her mare's ear, "You see, there is Minas Anor with its White Tree." To think only that she would see the beauty of Nimlot the Fair reborn. Luinwen's heart beat with pleasure at the notion and gay laughter made its way to her lips. How wonderful, how truly blessed by the Valar she felt. "Elbereth, but my heart shall burst."

"So much joy," Lindir spoke from behind her, catching her attention. "One would think 'tis you, mistress, who marches towards her bliss and not our fair lady."

"It is bliss," Luinwen insisted. "Though of a different sort. The Lady Arwen meets her destiny and I meet mine, Lindir."

He nodded his head in a placid manner. "Shall we race?" he asked suddenly, urging his horse on faster.

A mad thought dashed through Luinwen's mind. She looked at her mare. "What do you think, my friend? Shall we put my lord Lindir in his place?" The mare nickered softly and hurried her pace.

Understanding well enough, Luinwen dug her heels into the mare's flanks in a gentle gesture and the trot became a gallop. Lindir rushed after her, his horse cantering. A few other elves joined the race. Luinwen, who had dashed forward, looked back to see her main opponent gaining on her. She turned to the mare and pleaded with her to go faster still. It felt like flying. Her cape and her braid were blown back by the wind and her mare ran and ran. They were nearing the head of the column and she saw Erestor turn to look at her.

Greeting him with a wave of her hand, Luinwen almost laughed at the surprised look on his face. From behind her approached Lindir, Glorfindel close on his heels. Luinwen knew she would not win the race. Her mare was already slowing down. Yet that had not been the point. No truly. Lindir rode past her, a triumphant smile playing on his lips. Luinwen was just about to pull on her mare's reins when a hand gripped her wrist.

She looked towards the owner, only to find it was Glorfindel. "If he wins now, there will be no peace for us for the next millennium. Ride with me."

"But your horse, my lord–" Luinwen tried to protest. Surely it would not do to burden the creature unduly.

Still, Glorfindel would not let her be. She allowed him to pull her from her mare's back. The transfer was no hardship. She wound her arms around Glorfindel's waist and felt the horse take flight as it were. Joy thrummed through her, playing on the cords of her heart a sweet melody. Who knew that the friendly competition between elves would allow her such a moment.

It would not be fair to say that Luinwen won. In truth she won nothing. It was Glorfindel who sped past Lindir, reaching Lord Elrond at the head of the party. But by the end of it, she was breathing hard with equal parts exhilaration and exertion.

"That is not fair," Lindir complained, when he reached them mere moments later.

"There were no specific rules against it," Glorfindel disagreed. "We won."

Luinwen's breath caught it her throat at those words. It could not have been intentional, or rather it could not have the meaning she attributed to it, but her heart swelled at being attached to the ellon. She feared, though, that lingering would not be advised. Thus, she broke between the bickering elves with a plea to be put down so she may reach her own horse.

Thankfully, her mare had continued the way forward, albeit at a slower pace than before. Once she was safely deposited into her rightful place, Lord Elrond beckoned her closer. "We are nearing the city. 'Tis time to be of use to your lady."

With a bow of her head, Luinwen joined Lady Arwen as the party made one last stop. In the shade of a tree, she combed the Evenstar's dark tresses and arranged the coronet on her head as the other ellith swarmed around them with words of praise and encouragement.

"My lady, it is time," Luinwen finally said, done with her work.

"It is time," Lady Arwen agreed, taking in her hand the white banner of her house.


End file.
